


Out of These Waters

by hariboo



Category: Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Family, Friendship, Gen, Mentors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-12
Updated: 2011-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-20 08:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/210779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hariboo/pseuds/hariboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are fairy tales about stories like hers, but she didn’t <i>just</i> become a real girl, she’s been one all along.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of These Waters

**Author's Note:**

> because I give credit where credit is due: this fic was actually inspired thematically but this [picspam](http://marinersubmariner.tumblr.com/post/5629499852/the-little-mermaid-tron-legacy), and maybe Pinocchio a little.

`$Whoami  
$Whoami  
$Whoami`

 

 

she wakes up knowing. not understanding. understanding comes later, she knows this right away. she wake up to no mother or father, but to family. she wakes up.

 

 

`$Whoami  
Unknown.Unknown  
$Whoami  
$`

`.ISO.quorra  
$Whoami  
.ISO.quorra`

 

 

Around her, life is blue and lights; the light of the maker. She walks the grid, feet following the light path. Her feet are little. They are young. She waits for them to grow. Up in the sky there is a flair of light, bright and expanding it brushes out against the grey clouds like a halo over them all.

The Creator is home.

(not his home, hers. not his words, theirs. this is understanding. it is not wisdom. widsom comes much later, this she understands.)

She dreams of the Creator’s home, above the halo of the portal. She wonders what could be found there.

 

 

There are whispers. Clu has killed Tron. Has killed the Creator. Clu is on the hunt. He has his spear out pointing at them. She does not know what this will mean. Yet.

 

 

The kingdom has fallen.

 

 

`:SYSTEM ERROR  
:SYSTEM ERROR  
:SYSTEM ERROR  
:SYSTEM ERROR  
:SYSTEM ERROR`

`@directive: ISO PURGE`

 

 

She has sisters, she has brothers, she has friends, she has aunts and uncles. She has family.

In an instance, Clu takes them all from her.

She runs through the streets. She runs, arms pumping, the light of grid guiding, casting shadows up on her. She runs.

Everywhere is blue and lights and the sound of Clu’s laughter chases her.

 

 

She _had_ sisters.

 

 

They corner her and she can feel her sisters calling her home.

She wishes.

 

 

The Creator appears as if out of nothing. She knows it’s him because he looks like Clu, but Clu would not drive away his hunters with his hands and mouth. Clu might control them but the creator controls the Grid. His hands press together and are forced back by his control. He takes his disc and throws it at them. She watches as it spins around her and hits each member of the hunting party like if it’s flying through the air in slow motion, slowed as if underwater, and guided by something other than air. They all shatter and the creator turns to her.

“Hey, you okay there?” His voice is soft and his eyes flicker to her glowing mark. Next to him a BIT floats in the air, circling them.

She nods, “Thank you, sir.”

He smiles, “Well, no need to call me that. Call me Flynn.” He looks at the grid’s horizon, squinting, “We need to get out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” she answers, dusting herself off, her limbs ache as she moves them.

He laughs, “No, no sir. Just Flynn.”

She nods, “Yes, sir.”

He shakes his head, still laughing, and his eyes crinkle at the corner. There’s something sad in his gaze but there’s something claming too. She feels like she breathe easy. “Yeah, okay, let’s go. What’s your name anyway?”

“Quorra.”

“That’s a pretty rad name; Quorra. I like it.” He touches his hand to the crown of her head.

She smiles, for the first time in what feels like milla cycles, “Thank you.”

 

 

They walk for miles and she's starting to feel it. The emptiness in her stomach. The strain on her body. She’s been running for days now and can't remember when last she ate. She’s been running on her extras but all that is filtering out of her body now. Looking ahead, she bites her lip, the Creator is walking steadily in front of her. She wants to ask for sustenance but feels embarrassed. The Creator just saved her from Clu’s latest patrol, asking for more feels like too much.

She stumbles, her thoughts preoccupying her.

Her knee hits the grit of the ground hard. The BIT hovers by her flashing it’s different colours.

The Creator turns and rushes to kneel in front of her, “Hey, hey, hey, you okay there?" His hands cup her face, his thumbs are large and warm on the apple of her cheeks.

She wets her lips, tells herself to nod, but before she do anything her stomach growls and she looks away flushing.

“I’m sorry, sir." She keeps her gaze steady on the horizon, feeling her eyes water up.

She hears his sigh. His hand pats her cheek gently, “Hey, nothing to apologise for. I should have known better. Now, it's okay, honey, look at me.” She doesn’t, still too ashamed and tired and suddenly so very sad. “Hey, look at me, Quorra. It’s okay.” Slowly she turns to him, his eyes are gentle as they look at her. “When’s the last time you had something to eat or drink?"

She doesn't answer. She can't. She’s afraid of the water building up behind her eyes.

His hand guides her face towards his, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It’s okay." He pulls her to him, her cheek pressing against the stiff material of his jacket. He holds her there, gently, his hand rubbing circles on her back as she tries not to cry. When he pulls back, he's reaching into one of his pockets and pulls out a clear vial with blue liquid. It shimmers in the glass like treasure and her throat feels so so dry. It’s been so long since she's had some pure blue or green, the last drink she had was a dirty yellow and made her sick.

Her fingers itch for the vial, her throat and lips do too.

“Here you go," he grabs one of her hands and presses the vial to it. “Drink up. We have little more ways to go, but this should be enough.

Quorra nods and hurriedly untwists the top of the vial, tipping it into her mouth. The blue is cool and she can feel it spread out her body. she drinks it all, a little dribbles down her chin. The Creator’s thumb wipes the liquid away from her chin and smiles at her.

“Thank you, sir."

He stand and helps her up, “Didn’t I tell you to call me Flynn?”

She smiles up him, noticing how he hasn't let go of her hand this time. She tightens her grip on it. “Yes, sir."

“Oh you're going to be clever one, isn’t she, BIT?”

BIT circles them, flashing yellow, and Quorra knows he’s agreeing.

“Yes, sir,” she answers.

He laughs and they keep walking the hard ground of the outlands. She doesn't let go of his hand.

 

 

He lives outside the grid, but he can still build. He’s built a home into a cave. He builds her a room.

He gives her new clothes and feeds her and shows her his favourite books.

She watches him at night when they sit on balcony listening to the sky. She knows he’s thinking of his home—his real home where there’s a star so bright that they call it a sun and it lights up the world. She knows he’s thinking of up there, out there, a place where stories have happy endings.

When they sit on the balcony and she sees him stare up at the dark sky she pulls on his sleeve and asks him to tell her about his world.

He smiles sadly and tucks her under his arm, “Sure.” He pauses, looking back at horizon and his smile changes, “Well, I guess most good stories start with ‘once upon a time’. Let’s go with that, okay?”

“Okay,” she says, fingers playing with the ends of his jacket.

“Once upon a time there was a very stupid video game designer who had two very good friends…”

 

 

He goes through the fairytales as she grows. He always changes them each time he tells them, but she doesn’t care. He pulls books out system. He reads them to her. Stories are how she learns about his world, about him, about the sun and stars and oceans.

Stories are how she learns about herself too.

How she learns to dream.

 

 

The first words she reads out loud to herself are, _“Are we rising again?" "No. On the contrary." "Are we descending?" "Worse than that, captain! we are falling!”_

She reads _The Mysterious Island_ four times before she moves on to _20,000 Leagues Under The Seas_ , which she reads three times. Then it’s _Journey to the Center of the Earth_.

 

 

After she looks out at her world, considering.

Her world seems like an infinite island, mysterious and blue. Her world lives under Flynn’s world and after reading _20,000 Leagues Under The Seas_ the second time she asks Flynn if it reminds him of the ocean.

He passes her her plate, full of the green vegetables she dislikes, and then reaches to curl a strand of hair over her ear, “Not quite, but it’s pretty close. Kinda.”

“Will you tell me about the ocean, Flynn?” She pushes the vegetables to the far side of the plate, looking at him over her fork.

His eyes follow the vegetables but only says, “Yeah sure, what do you want to know?”

Quorra bites her lips, thinking, because she wants to know everything. Nodding to herself, she settles on, “Are there really mermaids that live under the water?”

His laughs is warm and he taps his chin thoughtfully, “Well, I’ve never seen one, but then again, what do I know?”

She pouts, not believing he doesn’t know, “You know everything! Tell me, please.”

Leaning back on his chair, he looks at her and there’s something about the look in his eyes that makes her feel safe and warm. “Well, okay then, little lady. Here’s what I do know…”

 

 

He teaches her to take care of herself. How to use her disc and other weapons; he does not like violence but he needs to teach her how to survive in the system Clu is building. He makes her read books, and study philosophy. Teaches her to understand things she knows. To know things she understands. He is her family now, with his books and BIT who follows her around when he’s not following Flynn. She learns that going back to the Grid is dangerous but she stares at it on the horizon and she can’t help it, she wants to know. She wants to _see_.

However, she still remembers what it was to run every day and Flynn still beats her when they spar. She’s scared too, if she’s honest. She want to know so much but something inside tells her: wait, learn, grow.

When she asks Flynn what that feeling is he smiles, pats her head, and says, “Wisdom.”

Quorra frowns, wisdom feels a lot like cowardice.

Flynn tells her that’s because true wisdom comes with age.

She asks if he has true wisdom.

BIT bops around his head a sunny yellow, blinking like he’s laughing.

Flynn laughs too and shakes his head, “No, I don’t, but I’m trying.”

 

 

At night when she’s reading after he tells her to go sleep BIT turns brighter in the dark, letting her read by his light. She visits Flynn’s world and dreams of reaching it one day.

 

 

After the tenth time she beats Flynn sparring and she is old enough to handle the Light Runner, curiosity gets the better of her. She waits until Flynn is asleep and sneaks out. When she’s about to get in BIT appears in front of her flashing red. She rolls her eyes at him.

“I’m just going out for a drive, I’ll be back soon.”

BIT keeps flashing.

She sighs, “Okay, okay. Would you stop if you come along?”

BIT shifts and stars glowing a sunny yellow.

Quorra grins and they’re off.

She hasn’t been to the Grid in cycles but she remembers enough. She parks the Light Runner in dark corner and takes to the streets, BIT floating gently at her shoulder. They get some looks, but nothing that makes her feel uncomfortable. Someone passes her and tell her about the End of Line club. She looks at BIT, who is shifting from his normal blue to green, and realises this will be up to her.

This is a new feeling: choice.

Her choice, alone, no Flynn guiding her.

It is a little scary and a lot amazing. She decides to go.

They’re walking the streets when someone bumps into her. She doesn’t think too much about it and doesn’t notice how long gloves slips down her arm.

She’s looking at the world around her, a world she’s been removed from for so long.

Clu has changed so much and yet it feels familiar.

She looks up at the entrance for the End of Line and feels her eyes go wide. Her amazement lasts about two-seconds before someone grabs her.

It’s one of the patrols and she’s frozen.

“You! Come with me!” He pulls her forward and grabs at her arms. She tries to pull aways but then notices how her glove has slipped down and snaps her head to the patrol. He’s seen it. She can tell from the way his grip tightens on her and she tries to pull away.

All of Flynn’s lesson are pumping through her head but she can’t remember anyone them expect: she lifts her leg and connects her knee to the patrol’s groin. It works. He buckles under and loosens his grip enough for her to pull away. She starts to run back towards where the Runner is and BIT is flashing red at her side.

She runs but the patrol is chasing her and she’s scared to run in the wrong direction and get farther away from safety that she pauses for a second to long. The patrol catches up to her and pulls her back but her disc. She spins, elbow bent and connects with his neck. Her elbow smashes against his helmet and pain shoots up her arm but she ignores it for now.

She manages to pull away, run a few feet, turning and instinctively pulls at her disc. He pulls his disc too, and they throw it at the same time. They’re too close, she realises. The disc miss each other by chance, and she knows hers will hit her mark, just like she knows the patrol’s disc will hit her. She has no time to move away. She knows what’s coming and knows she’s not fast enough to dodge.

Then she feels something push at her and out of the corner of her eyes she sees: BIT. He’s flashing red red red red red.

As she falls she sees the patrol derezze.

Next to her BIT shatters into pieces and she cries out as if something inside her shattered too. She knows she shouldn’t, that she should just run but she stops, turns, scoops the pieces into her hand, grabs her disc with her other, and _goes_. She’s running and running and running—it’s so familiar, too familiar, this feeling of fear—until she gets to the Light Runner. She doesn’t think twice about speeding away from the Grid and feels her tears blur her eyes as she heads home.

BIT’s pieces are tinkling on the seat next to her and can only think of what Flynn will say. BIT just wasn’t her friend but Flynn’s too. BIT was Flynn’s friend first. She just destroyed the last connection to what Flynn’s life used to be. She’s scared of going home but she has no other place. Flynn is home and home is safe.

 

 

When she reaches the cave’s entrance she lets the Light Runner spin on its platform, the wheels shifting back, as she unzips her top vest and scoops BIT’s remains into it. She folds it carefully, pressing the material to her chest and steps into the elevator. The lights change under her feet and when the door’s open Flynn is waiting for her.

“Oh, thank god!” he exclaims, his arms going around her. “Never do that again, Quorra. Do you know how worried I was?” He pulls back, holding her by her shoulders and looks at her face.

Her tears have dried onto her cheeks and her eyes are red rimmed, she knows.

“Quorra, what happened?”

She can’t say the words, she’s afraid he’ll hate her. That he’ll regret saving her and staying with her when she knows he dreams of the portal and _sam_

She shakes her head.

“Quorra, come on, honey,” he pulls her into the room and the doors close behind them.

She holds out her vest to him. He look confused and takes it, opening the folds, and staring down at the shattered pieces of BIT inside.

“Did you get hurt?” he looks at her, eyes sad and worried.

She shakes her head again.

“Honey, then what…” he looks down at the jacket again and frowns, his eyes widening when he starts to realise what’s he’s holding.

“He saved me. There was a patrol, he saw my arm.”

Flynn looks at her and his eyes are so sad she hates herself for it. She lunges at him, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezes. The vest crushed between them. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, please don’t hate me! Please don’t tell me to go away.”

Flynn is still under her hug and then she feels one of his arms surround her.

“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay.”

 

 

They bury BIT in the garden, letting what’s left of his programming enter the soil. She then makes a replica that will sit on the mantel even long after they’re both gone.

 

 

She doesn’t return to the Grid for cycles after that. She sits with Flynn, learns with him, plays him at Chinese Checkers and Go, and reads all their books over and over again. She trains with him until she’s faster and better. He takes to Tai-Chi and Yoga and despite the fact she gets bored just sitting and breathing and not doing much she joins him everyday.

 

 

When she is a full eighteen cycles old Flynn tells her that if she wants to go back to Grid she can. She’s old enough and smart enough. Quorra looks at the mantel where BIT’s replica resides and looks down at the cake Flynn made.

She turns to him, grabbing a forkful of cake and smiles, “Maybe someday!”

He scratches his bread, his smile is wide, “Yeah, maybe someday.”

Quorra knows the Grid, knows how unforgiving it is under Clu and as much as she wants to change it, as much as she wants to run into Clu’s domain and end him, she knows—feels—that it’s not the time. Plus, she has so much more to learn from Flynn and finally beat him at Go.

 

 

Eventually she starts driving into the Grid, careful to keep her arm covered, carrying her batons, and watches and learns. Better to know your enemy as a friend, she’s read in one of the many books that Flynn has taught her with. She goes to the Games, climbs the stadium walls, and watches Programs kill each other and call it sport. It makes her sick. It makes Flynn sad when she tells him.

 

 

Then, one day, she hears a name in the stadium:

 

 _Sam Flynn_

 

And she knows: now it’s time.

 

 

 _Flynn, we have company_.

 

 

After everything they’ve been through, all the cycles, all the stories, all the games and lessons, she watches Flynn disappear in a burst of light and her heart breaks. Then right next to her is Sam, who is pulling her from her world, in their own burst of light.

It’s like a spell is being cast upon her. She feels her body shifts and change in the light. She feels her limbs heavy in a way they never have felt before, she feels the world reshape itself inside and outside her, and when the light finally stops she falls to the ground next to Sam. He’s sitting, his hands clutching at desk and he blinks looking down her. She feels heavy. She feels solid in a way unlike before. She reaches out to pull herself up and her legs buckle a little under her. Sam’s hands go to her waist.

“Woah there, are you really here?” he asks, amazed.

She smiles, reaching out and touching his face, “Looks like I am.”

“Wow,” his smile speards across his face reminding her of his father. Their eyes crinkle the same way.

She laughs and that little piece of knowledge hurts in her chest, “Yeah, definitely wow.”

Sam cups her face and nods, “Yep, looks like you’re a real girl.”

Quorra frowns, “I was always real, Sam—“

“Yeah, I know, I didn’ mean…”

“I just never had real legs before!” She laughs and spins around for a couple of seconds. When she stops, she look down at Flynn’s computer, and touches it softly. “Your dad just gave me his world, Sam.” It hurts to know that Flynn isn’t with them. That Sam found his father only to lose him again and she turns to look at him.

He’s staring down at the computer too, his fingers near hers in the dust. She’s never seen dust before.

“Yeah, he gave us everything,” he sighs, and moves to sit back down. “Wait there a second, there’s something I gotta do.”

Quorra nods, turning and looks at this new world around her. She walks to the board where her gaze passes over old photos and notes. She looks back at Sam and tilts her head in consideration. She always thought Flynn was a little bit of magic—the magician, the wizard, the warlock in all the tales he told her when she was younger and now looking at the world he left and the gift he gave her, she knows she was right to have thought that all along.

 

 

Not that long after, from where she can’t help stare at the sun so bright and wondrous in the sky in above of her she knows, turning her head back at Sam, running her nose against the leather of his jacket, that Flynn gave her the best part of his world.

And boy is she going to make him proud.

 

 

She gets the hang of computers incredibly fast and it shocks Sam until he realises just why. Then makes it them laugh.

She builds, like Flynn taught her. She creates. She revolutionises.

When Sam and Alan asks her want she wants to call the program she grins at them.

She calls it FLYNN.


End file.
